Second Chances
by Kitake Neru
Summary: [BalthierAshe] This time, he has a leading lady. A series of oneshots set in the FFXII universe.
1. Second Chances

Inspired by the song 'Second Chance' by Trisha Yearwood. Written because I'm starving for Balthier/Ashe. Be warned, I have not finished the game, but I cheated and watched the ending, so anything in between will not be 100 accurate. Also, I interchange between the Japanese and English version of dialogue for the ending, because it's more Balthier/Ashe, haha.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XII and all its characters belong to Square Enix. I own nothing, though I wish I had one of Balthier's rings.

* * *

_  
**What do you do when love comes along  
And offers your heart a chance to move on  
With no guarantees, no safety net  
You trust what you feel, you take that first step **_

"My ring?" She instinctively clasped the rings on her hand. One, hers. The other, Rasler's. "Isn't there anything else?"

"No one's forcing you," He had said simply, holding out his hand expectantly. For a moment, doubt clouded her mind. Why should she give this ring; the only thing she had of Rasler's… to him?

_To reclaim the future, you must let go of the past._

His hand, warm, firm, secure. The sum of all her beloved memories was passed into that hand, and as he examined the ring, she felt as if a part of her had been lifted away, taken.

"I'll give it back to you… when I find something more valuable," He had smiled and pocketed the ring. _He's not putting it on._

"Like what?" Vaan asked curiously. To which he smiled a secret smile, and gave Ashe a sidelong glance that made her cheeks heat up.

"I'll know it when I find it."

_**Just close your eyes  
Reach for the moment  
Before it slips by  
Here is your second chance   
Take it and fly**  
_

His hand, warm, firm, secure. It manifested into physical contact; all that he had been doing all along. _Don't be afraid to fall; I'll always be there to pull you up._ It was only for a second, but it was an eternity of unspoken words, unspoken feelings.

And then she moved away, his fingers made to linger, but he let his arm fall to his side.

But he never let go.

That afternoon, he showed her a side she had never seen before; a side that made her realize that he did understand what she was going through. They had both gone through a lot of confusion, a lot of pain. He ran from his past, while she was running after her future. Painful as it was, she was somehow grateful that he allowed her to share his story; just as she allowed him to share hers.

_**The weight of the world, the need to survive  
Has made you believe, that you've got no right  
Then out of the blue, you meet someone   
Who offers a place, warm as the sun**  
_

In one hand, the Treaty-Blade weighed heavy. In the other, the Sword of Kings. Both blades felt like the weight of the future of Dalmasca was in her hands.

No… Ivalice.

_To use… or destroy._

She heard the leaves crushed underfoot, and she turned around to see Balthier come up to her, Fomalhaut slung over his shoulder. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes as he studied her holding the two blades.

"… I cannot decide," She finally whispered after he had wordlessly taken a seat next to her. "I do not know what to do." She helplessly released both weapons, hating; hating herself for not seeing the path she should take. Will either of them bring hope to Dalmasca? Or will both bring ruin? Whose counsel should she follow, or should she follow any at all?

She stared into the distance, feeling utterly, completely lost. The stars above could not comfort her; she found no solace in solitude.

His hand covered hers and held it. "You'll know what to do when the time comes," He assured her quietly, a hint of a smile on his lips and she stared into his eyes questioningly. "Will I?"

"We wouldn't have followed you this far if we didn't think you were capable of deciding for the best," he smiled, this time clear and warm. Her faltering heart found strength, and she laced her fingers through his, wishing she could always have this pillar to lean on. "I pray you're right, Balthier."

_**Just close your eyes  
Reach for the moment  
Before it slips by  
Here is your second chance  
Take it and fly**  
_

"You are only making things harder," Fran observed, and Balthier did not answer. But Fran did not need words to ascertain the truth.

"It's too late to say that now," He spoke up. "I've already given more than I should have."

"And you have taken what you should not," Fran placed a hand on his shoulder. "She still feels the loss of a loved one. Dare you make her go through it once more?"

"Fran, please," Balthier snorted. "You make it sound like I'm going to die or whatnot."

"You _are_ the leading man," Fran pointed out before moving away. "You must do something a leading man does."

Balthier stared after her for a moment, thinking. "Something a leading man does…?"

**_Just when you think love is a distant dream  
Oh, fate give you wings  
_**

"Balthier!" She cried into the transmitter, her fear growing by the second. "Balthier, do you know what is it you're doing?!" Outside the screen she could see the Bahamut; the thundercloud-shaped fortress silent and foreboding.

Balthier!

"Princess!" His voice, ever so cheerful, ever confident. "No need to worry. You seem to have forgotten my role in this little story."

_Which one? The pirate? The prodigal son? The pillar of strength?_

_My pillar of strength?_

"I'm the leading man," He proclaimed with bemusement. "Do you know what the say about the leading man?"

Tears had gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill. I must not… should not…

"He never… _dies_."

There was a mighty roar of engines and Ashe threw all pretenses of composure out of the window. "Balthier! Get out of the Bahamut now, please! If you die…" A solitary tear ran down her cheek and the pain in her heart grew so much that she felt she could break. "If you die…"

She could feel his hand slipping away from hers; the comfort and strength ebbing away. No longer was she princess Ashelia B'Nargan Dalmasca, who wanted to free her kingdom – right now she was just Ashe… all she wanted was for him to live!

And the Bahamut crashed with a mighty roar, and Ashe's heart crashed along with it.

_Balthier!!!!_

* * *

Her coronation went smoothly; the perfect day. As she paraded through the streets of Rabanastre, overflowing with cheering citizens, she couldn't help but smile widely. Before, she paraded with Rasler at her side, but today, the parade was hers, and hers alone. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Vaan and Penelo on an archway, waving and cheering along with the others. As Ashe waved to the crowd, she made sure to wave extra long at the pair. But Vaan had other plans. He pointed to the archway that spanned across the main road, where Ashe would pass underneath. Curious, Ashe followed his lead –

And her heart leapt.

Standing on the archway and hidden between wrought iron decorations, as immaculate and dashing as ever, Balthier grinned his trademark smirk. As Ashe approached the arch, he made a slow bow, a homage to her, and warmth flooded her body as she tried to avert her eyes. _He had come to see her_.

She deliberately changed the hand that had been holding the royal scepter and took off her left-hand glove before passing the hand through her hair, the sunlight glinting off the rings on her fingers. Her ring, and Rasler's. Only, she can no longer think of the ring as just Rasler's any longer.

And Balthier grinned at the discreet gesture, understanding perfectly the unspoken words they could not say. "Come Fran, I believe our roles in this story is over."

And his partner only smiled, being all too knowing of her Hume-child partner. "But a new story has begun."

"Quite right. And this time," Balthier cast a warm smile to the queen below him; "I have a leading lady."

**_Just close your eyes  
Reach for the moment  
Before it slips by  
Here is your second chance  
Take it and fly_**

* * *

Reviews will be much appreciated. Flames are also accepted. Please do!**_  
_**


	2. Drink Up Me Hearties YoHo!

**Drink Up Me Hearties Yo-Ho! **

This came out of nowhere. So I wrote it. The three Ministers in this fic are OC, but to give you an idea of what they look like, Arhwite was based off Minister Artania from FFIX, Udine was based off the talking clock from Beauty and the Beast and Daguerro is like your normal Intelligence Minister - thin with a pencil moustache. That said, the Bhindu Festival does not exist anywhere except in the universe of this fic. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XII is the property of Square-Enix. Final Fantasy IX is the property of Squaresoft.

* * *

It was common to see the servants scurrying about the Palace, running from one task to another. The Royal Palace of Dalmasca had been ordered to undergo massive refurbishments; partly because Lord Vayne had scattered marks of his personal taste all over the structure. Indeed, Ashe refused point-blank to sleep in the same room that he did, thus the Royal Suite was removed from the North Wing and installed in the West Wing instead; overlooking the colossal ruin of the fallen _Bahamut_. Queen Ashelia has strange tastes indeed.

However, it was very uncommon to see a member of the Ministry making scorch marks on the marble floor as he scurried to the conference chamber. Such was the situation the servants found themselves that morning, having to avoid a painful collision with one of Dalmasca's most distinguished ministers. Distinguished, because it was very easy to distinguish Minister Udine's rotund physique even in a roomfull of Bombs.

Udine skidded into the conference chamber, cursed the polished floors and quickly closed the door behind him. "Did you hear?"

The other Ministers in the room looked up upon his entry, and surprised they were. Udine was not a man given to physical excursion – running being one such example. Another Minister in the room, Arthwite eyed him critically. "You sound very much like a streetear with a bit of gold. What juicy morsel have you between your teeth, Udine?"

"Tis a rare day indeed for you to hear anything before us," Minister Daguerro, in charge of Intelligence, sniffed.

"Her Majesty was singing!" Udine gesticulated with strained horror. Arthwite and Daguerro exchanged looks and burst into laughter. "Surely you are not surprised at that? Why, I am sure Her Majesty has a lovely singing voice."

"Lovely, Lovely," Daguerro nodded. "I can vouch that."

"_That is not the point!_" Udine was pacing now, clearly agitated. "Yes, Her Majesty's voice is very well indeed, but… but – she was singing a _drinking song_! About bartops and madhu and tavern benches!"

"_Tavern benches_?!" Dageurro and Arthwite echoed in surprise. Now that was something you don't hear everyday. But shocked as they were, Daguerro was the first to recover. "As uncommon as it is, we should have expected it. Having spent so much time in unscrupulous company – "

"Pirates and thieves and kingslayers," Arthwite muttered and Daguerro nodded in agreement; "Quite right. Having spend time in company such as _that_, it is not entirely unplausible for Her Majesty to pick up a wayward tune or two."

"Unplausible yes, but _unacceptable_!" Udine was sweating profusely now and Arthwite regarded him with pity. It is a difficult task, being Etiquette Minister. Under normal circumstances, such a title would not have been necessary, but Queen Ashelia had been away from nobility far too long. It would not do for her to commit a royal blunder – even if she _was_ on cordial terms with other Heads of State.

"You can reproach her, can you not? I see no reason to work up a fit, Udine."

"Oh reproaching Her Majesty is well within my jurisdiction, but…" Udine sat down and sighed heavily. "It has been a while since we last saw Her Majesty smile, let alone _sing_. Even the servants are glad of this change – even if her choice of song is…"

"Oh we can very well guess _why_ she sang that song," Arthwite snorted and held up a letter. "The Marquis sent her a letter yesterday, inviting her Majesty to spend several days at his residence during the Bhindu Festival. I can safely assume that her other… _comrades_ will be there as well."

"Cunning on the part of the Marquis," Daguerro remarked. "Since she is unable to meet them in Dalmasca, let them converge elsewhere."

"And the Bhindu Festival is the perfect cover. Her Majesty loved to attend those when she was younger."

Udine stiffened and was about to announce that he would reproach her for such atrocious behavior in front of the servants when the door opened and Ashe stepped in. "Forgive me for being late," She apologized, but there was nothing apologetic in her smile. "I was delayed by my wardrobe."

Days when she dwells on what to wear signified her cheerful mood, and Udine realized that his battle was lost before he had even begun. Daguerro and Arthwite gave him a patronizing look, and Udine sighed – but still he had something that he simply _had_ to say, etiquette or not. "Your Majesty," He sniffed stiffly, drawing himself up and mentally cursing the dratted sky pirate's idea of censorship; "It's 'tavern wenches', not _tavern benches._"

* * *


End file.
